


Good Sportsmanship

by cathrheas



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Creampie, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, F/F, Hate Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Sort Of, Verbal Humiliation, and it's catherine, in case you can't tell someone here has a penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 07:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20170711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrheas/pseuds/cathrheas
Summary: Shamir loses in a spar with Catherine. For some god-awful reason, she had allowed Catherine to raise the stakes.





	Good Sportsmanship

**Author's Note:**

> wheeeee i love catherine

“Well, isn’t that a shame? Your loss, Shamir.”

Of course. With Catherine, it was all about winning. Shamir herself was quite competitive, too, but it was a lot different when it came to Catherine. Winning or losing came with a high prize or a high price when they sparred together, and Shamir had picked up the latter.

At least the training ground was empty when Catherine claimed her prize.

“Yeah. I can see that,” Shamir said. Even if she wasn’t too exhausted to consider launching a surprise counterattack and reversing Catherine’s victory, her training sword was feet away. Close range combat wasn’t her thing. But what made the situation worse was the fact that Catherine was rather good with a bow, so there really was nothing Shamir could do to outrank her. The few times Shamir  _ had _ won a spar against Catherine, it was usually outside of their little...past-time.

Shamir planted her hands on the ground, then tried to push herself up. Then she felt a boot on her back.  _ What else did I expect...? _ “Not so fast! Where do you think you’re going? It’s just us out here, y’know. And it’ll be like that for a while.”

“Whenever  _ I _ win this little game of yours, all of a sudden you’re ‘not in the mood’ or you ‘have something to do’. But whenever  _ you _ win, I have to get fucked into the dirt?”

“Oh, Shamir,” Catherine laughed. “You  _ never _ win. That’s the point of the game.”

Catherine lifted her foot, but Shamir stayed put in the dirt, sighing. Well, fine. Even though she boasted stamina that could last for days, Catherine was undoubtedly exhausted from their match. If things went Shamir’s way, she’d still be capable of moving after they were done.

Catherine crouched, her knees on either side of Shamir’s hips. Shamir jerked in surprise when Catherine tugged her pants down, but relaxed when Catherine pulled her up. Doggystyle, of course. Catherine was so disgustingly predictable. Every now and again, usually when Catherine was inside of her, Shamir would wonder why she put up with someone like Catherine. Then Catherine would thrust again, and she’d remember why—or she’d forget to question herself. One or the other.

“We should do this in a proper bed at some point,” Catherine murmured. As if she wasn’t the one who had forced Shamir to stay at the training grounds. “Kneeling for Lady Rhea is one thing, but it’s a little less comfortable when we’re going at it for a while.”

“I’m going to start throwing you off of me if you continue to mention Rhea while we’re doing this.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jealous.” Shamir heard a thud of armor hitting the dirt, the rustling of clothing. Then Catherine was caressing her ass, sliding her cock between the lips of her cunt. “Don’t worry, though, Shamir. You’re the only one I’m thinking about when we do this. You wanna know why?”

“No.”

“Too bad. I’m telling you anyway. It’s because...I know that not even Lady Rhea would yell and squirm like you do.”

Shamir tensed when Catherine pushed inside of her, trying to hold back her cries, trying to prove Catherine wrong. But she couldn’t help it, not when Catherine was spreading her open like that. It was even worse, knowing that she was already wet, as if she’d known before Catherine had even won that she was going to get what she was getting. 

And, to be fair, she was getting it  _ good. _ Catherine, in Shamir’s opinion, wasn’t delicate or careful enough to bother with much foreplay or teasing. From the very moment she was all the way inside, she was thrusting, deep and fast, the leather of her gloves rubbing against Shamir’s skin in a way that was oh-so familiar. Shamir bit into her own glove to mute herself, but only ended up entertaining Catherine more.

“Isn’t this a pity? It must suck to get rammed into the dirt by a knight who’s your  _ junior. _ ” Shamir wanted to argue; after all, Catherine had always insisted that the year of seniority Shamir had on her meant nothing. “First you lose to me, then you let me fuck you in some open-air training ground? You’ve got it bad for me, huh?”

“Bullshit,” Shamir spat. “Gods, will you shut up already?”

“That’s an interesting response for someone who was soaking wet before I’d even gotten started.” Catherine took hold of Shamir’s hair, and Shamir prepared for a pull upwards, but just like in battle, Catherine was a master of surprises. She pushed Shamir’s face into the ground, holding her there as her thrusts intensified. “Bottom line is,” Catherine panted, “you  _ lost. _ Probably on purpose, huh? Or am I just stronger?”

Shamir knew where Catherine was going. As annoying as her little arrogant power trip could get, Shamir didn’t mind it. She knew she was as good of a knight as Catherine was, if not better. But it was still irritating. “Neither.”

“No, no. I think I’m just stronger than you,” Catherine decided. Shamir was in no position to fight, her cheek pressed into the dirt and her juices sliding down her thighs. “I wonder what it feels like to be weak like you, Shamir. That must suck, right? Losing to someone that you really thought you could beat...then bending over like some common whore? What a waste of talent...if you have any.”

Shamir shuddered. At the very least, her body could do her the favor of not responding to Catherine’s taunts, but she was responding, as if everything Catherine said had been true. As if she’d been just waiting for someone stronger and more superior to come along and take her. Catherine chuckled when Shamir’s hands balled into fists. “Just finish up,” Shamir said, cursing herself for letting her voice tremble. “We both know you’re a quick shot.”

A low blow, but one that silenced Catherine nonetheless. Shamir couldn’t exactly fault Catherine for being a little excited. After all, there was nobody else who’d put up with her long enough for her to get her rocks off with her power play. No wonder she couldn’t contain herself. Besides, Shamir was admittedly...”easy” for Catherine, for lack of a better word. It was hard not to work herself up when there was nobody that looked at her like Catherine did, nobody that made her cum like Catherine did. Catherine was like her personal aphrodisiac, even if she did act like a dopey dog sometimes.

“Oh, man, Shamir,” Catherine groaned. “I’m seriously at my limit...don’t you wanna cum for me?”  _ No, _ Shamir thought indignantly. But if she’d said that aloud, there was no guarantee that Catherine would let her climax at all. She opted to not reply. Catherine deemed that unacceptable. “Come on. Don’t be so stiff. Tell you what...if you say my name, nice and loud, I’ll rub your clit nice and fast, just how you like it. Hell, I’ll even eat you out after.”

“You’re going to eat me out after,” Shamir mumbled, “when you’re going to finish inside me like you always do.”

“So? I’m not shy.”

“Not shy. Just gross.”

“Fine, then. I won’t. But I know for a fact that you won’t be able to cum without my fingers on you.”

It was kind of embarrassing to Shamir, that they had placed their little bet so many times that Catherine knew exactly how she got off. It was frustrating, too, that Catherine was so damn full of herself and so damn right. “Harder, and I’ll think about it.”

Catherine scoffed, undoubtedly accompanied by a shake of her head, but Shamir couldn’t see it when she was being pinned to the ground. Catherine obliged, though, rocking into Shamir with abandon. Shamir shut her eyes, wondering if pretending someone else was behind her would protect her pride, but she couldn’t come up with anyone else but Catherine. 

What a shame that someone so annoyingly arrogant was that good of a lay.

“You’re getting closer,” Catherine sing-songed. “Guess what, Shamir? Me too. I’m almost there. Say my name for me, and I’ll cum inside you, hot and deep. That’s what you want, right? You’re practically  _ begging  _ for me. So let’s see it, Shamir. Moan for me like the pathetic loser you are.”

Shamir gasped, her legs tensing. “Catherine!”

Catherine choked on her own words for a moment, then wrapped her arms around Shamir and held her tight. True to her word, Catherine let her spunk coat Shamir’s walls, breathing hard and rolling her hips all the while. Her hand sought out Shamir’s clit, furiously circling her finger around it in tandem with her thrusts. Shamir’s vision flashed black and white. Her body felt too warm, with the sun on her bare skin and Catherine panting hotly into her ear.

When Catherine rolled over onto the dirt, Shamir rolled with her, Catherine’s shaft slipping out of her. Shamir sighed. It was all fun and games when they were still in the middle of things, but when they were finished... “Ugh,” Shamir said, and Catherine scooted away.

“Better?”

“You moving a few inches to the right doesn’t change the fact that I’m dripping with sweat and semen,” Shamir responded wryly.

“...I offered to eat you out.” Shamir didn’t laugh—she rarely did—but she couldn’t help smirking. “Whew. That was intense. Sorry about all that stuff I said. Well, some of it, anyway. A little bit of it was true.”

“None of that was even remotely true.”

“Oh, yeah? So, you didn’t lose on purpose just so I’d fuck you?”

“Why would I do that? Even if I won, I’d still get off.”

“Yeah, but it’s a lot more fun in the dirt. You’re always tellin’ people to sleep in it and all, so I thought you’d enjoy getting drilled into it.”

Shamir sat up, gathering her clothes. She’d have to change them, anyway... “Let’s do lances, next time we spar.”

“Think that’ll make you win? As if I wouldn’t make a great member of the cavalry.”

“I’m not going to brag about how great I am like you do,” Shamir said pointedly, “But I admit that I’m reluctant to lose the next match we have. I have my own ideas of what we should be doing after a spar.”

That caught Catherine’s attention. “I like the sound of that. What are we going to be doing?  _ If _ you win, that is.”

“First...we’ll be finding a bed.”


End file.
